Recipe: Rabbit casserole is both thrifty and delicious

When the few shares I possess took a serious beating last week I decided to pad out the chicken intended for Sunday lunch with haricot beans to make a huge and hearty casserole. I didn't really need to, but God, did it make me feel better. It made me feel better in the same way that taking the bus home after spending far too much on a pair of shoes makes me feel better. And what's food for if not for making us feel better about life.

In fact, I got two days' worth of eating out of that chicken. A fat free-ranger, it did us a casserole (with apples, flageolet beans and rosemary) and finally a soup (with the leftover meat removed from its bones, shredded cabbage, sourdough toasts and a trickle of olive oil). With a chicken you pretty much get what you pay for, and I often use the bones of a roast to make a pale brown stock. I have made stock from the bones of a cut-price chicken before now and all I got was the equivalent of dishwater. No amount of onions and bay leaves and carrots and peppercorns will transform the carcass of an intensively reared bird into sustaining stock. The birds are too young and their bones too thin to make the decent stock that makes soup (or a risotto) so nourishing. The stock doesn't set to a golden jelly. It has no body.

This is the second time I have made this sweet, autumnal casserole, last time using wild rabbit, which for those of us tightening our belts are around at a good price right now. Truth be told, I don't usually mention the bunny bit until we are tucking in. Most assume white meat is chicken. Its meat is agreeable and allows a farmer's lettuces to live another day.

There are two ways the cook of the house can deal with a financial crisis: by buying cheaper, inferior food, or making what they would normally eat go a bit further. I tend to take the second option, which I see as preferable to filling my basket with ingredients I wouldn't normally have in the house. The food tastes as good, as succulent and as rich as it normally would, but it is simply bolstered with a pillow of starch. A handful of beans, the odd potato, or maybe a larger than usual mound of accompanying vegetables are invaluable in making a little go a long way.

Beans, root vegetables and pasta have long been used where money is tight. The rich stews of the Greek and Italian kitchen are perfect examples of how a few spicy sausages or a chunk of ham can be stretched to feed a family, and probably an extended one at that. This may well be the winter that polenta finally makes it big in this country. Nothing fills the belly like a mound of canary-coloured cornmeal. Or maybe we will finally get those beans out of their storage jars.

The thing I love about this sort of recipe is that it has not even the remotest whiff of parsimony about it. The difference between well-made peasant cooking and a cheap chicken is that the former gives no hint that the purse strings are tight. If the recession really does start to bite there is going to be a lot more padding out to done. I had better go and replace my broken bean pot. A nice handmade one, of course.

A casserole of rabbit (or chicken) and apple

A sweet, apple-rich stew for a cool autumn evening. A piece of rabbit or chicken on the bone and a decent butcher's sausage should be enough for each person, leaving you with four pieces of meat to make a soup-stew for tomorrow. To make soup of the leftovers pull the meat off the bones then return it to the remains of the stew and slowly reheat. Make thick toast croutes to put in the bottom of your soup bowls, then ladle the thick beany soup over them. A drizzle of olive oil is a sound finishing touch. If you need more liquid then add a little stock or water as you reheat. Serves 4.

250g dried flageolet or haricot beans

3 tbsp olive oil

8 large rabbit or chicken pieces on the bone

4 decent sausages, cut into four

2 medium onions

400g dessert apples

3 sprigs rosemary

2 tbsp flour

a bay leaf or two

500ml cider, stock or, at a push, water

3 tbsp double cream (optional)

1 tbsp cider vinegar (or more to taste)

Soak the beans overnight in cold water. Drain and bring to the boil in fresh, unsalted water. Let them simmer for approximately 40 minutes, checking their progress now and again. How quickly they are ready will depend on the age of your beans. Drain and set aside.

Set the oven at 190C/gas mark 5. Warm 2 tbsp of the olive oil in a shallow pan, add the rabbit or chicken pieces and the sausages and let them colour nicely on all sides. While the rabbit or chicken is cooking, peel and ...#8594; ...#8592; roughly chop the onions, core and chop the apples, and remove the rosemary needles from their stems and chop them.

Remove the meat to a plate and add the onions to the pan, letting them soften, then introducing the apple, allowing it to colour on all sides, adding more oil if necessary. Stir in the chopped rosemary, flour, bay leaf, salt and pepper, then the cider or stock. Let the liquid bubble for a couple of minutes, stirring to dissolve any crusty bits from the pan. Stir in the drained, cooked beans.

Bake for 45 minutes to an hour, covered with a lid. Check the meat is tender, then stir in the cream if you are using it and the cider vinegar. The sauce should be quite sweet, but if it's too much so, reduce it by stirring in more cider vinegar. Check the seasoning, adding more salt, pepper, and cider vinegar as necessary. Serve in shallow bowls.

Apricot and orange queen of puddings

Of all the thrifty, nursery-style puddings that I turn to when the weather gets colder, the Queen of Puddings is met with more smiles than most. The recipe appeals particularly because of its prudent use of stale bread or cake crumbs. The traditional recipe uses lemon zest and raspberry jam and there is nothing wrong with that, but I much prefer the warm notes of orange zest and the slightly sharper apricot jam. Serves 4.

100g fresh or slightly stale white breadcrumbs

2 tbsp caster sugar

finely grated zest of a small orange

500ml creamy milk

50g butter

4 large eggs

a jar of apricot jam

100g caster sugar

Set the oven at 180C/gas mark 4. Toss the breadcrumbs with the 2 tbsp caster sugar and the orange zest, then put it into a deep baking dish approximately 26cm x 22cm.

Bring the milk and butter almost to the boil in a non-stick pan, then leave to cool briefly. Separate the eggs, then beat the yolks and pour the warm milk over them, beating all the time. Pour the mixture into the baking dish, then place in a roasting tin. Pour in enough water to come halfway up the sides of the dish. Bake for 25-30 minutes until the custard has set lightly.

Remove the custard from the oven and take out of the roasting tin. Melt the jam in a small pan, then spoon it over the custard. Beat the egg whites till they will stand in firm peaks, then fold in the caster sugar. Pile the meringue on top of the pudding and return it to the oven for 20 minutes, till pale golden on top.